


A Little Dream

by jinkieswouldyoulookatthis



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-09
Updated: 2015-11-15
Packaged: 2018-04-25 15:38:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4966582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkieswouldyoulookatthis/pseuds/jinkieswouldyoulookatthis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a dream, right?</p><p> </p><p>Fluff with a smut chaser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Right around the time your marriage started to fall apart, you began having a reoccurring dream. As your husband grew more and more distant and emotionally cold towards you, you found yourself dreaming of a comforting, warm presence beside you as you slept. You would wake up, alone in the bed you once shared with your husband, feeling the ghost-like memory of someone sleeping beside you. But the sheets on that side of the bed were cold when you slid your hand across. It was just a dream. Honestly, it wasn’t surprising and it didn’t seem weird in the slightest. It was just your subconscious longing for what was missing from your waking life. 

The night that your husband had said that he was moving out and filing for divorce you drank, heavily, and cried yourself to sleep. Pathetic? Maybe. But you didn’t care. You woke the next morning with the feeling of a warm body pressed up behind you and strong arms wrapped around you. As your eyes opened, the feeling faded and your head started aching with the beginning of a wicked hangover. 

As the weeks went by, the dream started occurring more and more frequently, and each time, in those precious moments between sleep and wakefulness, you felt so warm and content and safe that a sense of disappointment would wash over you when it faded, spoiling the beginning of your day.

The day that the divorce was made final, you felt the dream wrap around you as you were drifting off to sleep and you woke to the lingering scent of a man you had never met, certain now that your dream man wasn’t some sad longing for your ex-husband. The air was full of the smell of leather and motor oil, metal and whiskey, soap and clean, male muskiness. But as fast as you breathed it in, it seemed to dissipate and you groaned when you were left with just the fragrance of your own bed. 

You had to make a trip into the city a couple of days later for work. The seminar you were attending broke for lunch and rather than eating the kind of meh spread that had been catered in, you chose to walk down the block to where some food trucks were parked to get a hot dog. Something about street vendor dogs, mmm! There was nothing better. Your stomach was grumbling as you waited your turn. The tall, denim and flannel clad man ahead of you ordered three with the works and ate half of one in a single bite before he turned to walk away, hands full. His shoulder collided with you, but thankfully none of his food did.

“Sorry!” He managed around the somewhat obscene amount of food he still had in his mouth. Even with his cheeks bulging out like a squirrel hoarding acorns, he was attractive enough to make you blush as you looked down.

“It’s okay.” You said quietly, brushing past him and up to the vendor. Just as you opened your mouth to order, your brain started excitedly shouting at you that the guy had smelled familiar. Your eyes widened as you watched him walking away. Your dream…he smelled just like your dream. But that was just a crazy coincidence, you thought. Actually, crazy was probably exactly what it was. Jeez, you were losing it!

“What can I get you?” The vendor asked, impatient to move things along. As you turned to him and told him what toppings you wanted, you thought you saw dream guy turn and look back at you. When you looked over though, you barely glimpsed him disappearing around the corner at the end of the block.

You couldn’t help but think about the guy over the next few days and you blamed your overactive imagination when his face kept surfacing in your mind as you fell asleep. The feeling of arms around you had intensified to include fingertips brushing against your skin and breath warming your hair and the back of your neck. You woke one morning just before a kiss was placed on your shoulder. Or at least, you were convinced that was what was going to happen. And it had left you flustered and distracted all day.

This was about the same time that you realized that you couldn’t fall asleep if the dream didn’t start and you would sometimes lay awake in bed for hours waiting for sleep to find you. There was a particularly rough patch where you went three days without sleeping at all. You were sitting up watching television in your living room at 2am, curled against the arm of the sofa and thinking that you were going to lose your job, if not your mind, when you felt the rise and fall of a broad chest behind you and his arms warming your stomach where they hugged around your middle. You sighed and fell straight to sleep. At some point during the night you woke up and had the overwhelming urge to get up and go to bed. You must have never woken completely, because you could have sworn you felt his hand against the small of your back as you went down the hall to your room, his thumb rubbing little circles against your skin.

Your dream that night involved a lot more vivid detail than normal, imagining broad gentle hands and full lips, freckled skin and…you woke with the sun streaming into your eyes and sweat causing your tee shirt and sheets to cling to you. You groaned in frustration and got up to take a very long shower.

Later, after the third person at work told you that you looked like crap (in all fairness they had only said that you looked tired, but you had looked in a mirror and knew the truth behind their concerned words) you told your boss that you weren’t well and asked if you could take the rest of the day off. She said yes and reminded you that you had a ton of leave built up so if you needed to take a few more days that they would find a way to manage without you. She told you to take care of yourself and to call if you needed anything.

You had meant to make yourself some lunch when you got home, however, your body seemed to have another idea as your feet took you straight to your room. Collapsing onto the bed you were asleep before your head hit. Instead of the spongy softness of your pillow, you snuggled into a shoulder, his arm across your back, hand curling around your side. You felt him sigh beneath you, heard his heartbeat slow to a calm, steady rhythm as you both fell asleep.

An indeterminate amount of time later you opened your eyes to find the room was almost completely dark. Although you could barely make out anything you struggled with the very strong feeling that something wasn't right. The faint light that was coming in from under the door didn't look quite right. In fact, the door was in the wrong place, or was that the window??? As disorientation triggered panic started to grip you, you felt your dream guy stir behind you, one hand rubbing across your back, his face nuzzling into your hair. He breathed in and then froze, his hand stopped moving and lay ridged on your waist. 

"You're actually here." His deep voice gravelly from sleep but there was a rising tone of alarm turning it almost into a growl. "Who ARE you?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your dream takes a turn for the real.

"You're actually here." His deep voice gravelly from sleep but there was a rising tone of alarm turning it almost into a growl. "Who ARE you?"

You slipped out of the sheets in a flash and spun around to face the bed. In the split second it took you, the bedside lamp clicked on and you heard a sound you'd only ever heard on TV and in the movies, that of a gun's safety being disengaged.

The first thing you focused on was the muzzle of a handgun pointed at your chest and you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

"Who are you?" He repeated, angry sounding this time. 

You swallowed thickly and forced yourself to look past the gun, your jaw practically dropped to the floor. "Hot dog guy?!"

The man blinked and frowned, looking confused. "Hot dog guy?" He repeated like he couldn't believe what he heard. Although you had only seen him once, for a brief moment, you were certain it was him. Eyes that had looked green in the sunshine now seemed light brown in the dim light of this strange room. Denim and flannel gone, revealing an expanse of freckles and muscles that seemed too familiar. But the scent of the room was that of your dream and you knew, no matter how crazy it was, that this was the same guy.

"You bumped into me with a mouthful of Everything Dog. That was you, wasn't it?" You voice faltered with the question, suddenly a quiet squeak. Your mind was reeling, were you still dreaming? Although he hadn't lowered the gun, and still seemed like he was serious about using it, you could see him searching his memory. His eyes suddenly went wide for a second before his brows knit together in a scowl that made you cringe, convinced in that second that he was going to shoot.

"I remember you. Did you slip something into my pocket? A hex bag or something? Is that how you got in here?" His voice was deep and gruff and he spoke like someone who was used to getting answers out of people.

It was your turn to look confused. "Wha..."

"What are you!? A witch? Demon?" 

"WHAT?" The panic was rising up and you barely had time to register that your vision was blacking out around the edges before everything went dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What seems crazy to some is just another day at the office to others.

You woke up cold and sore, your face pressed into the carpet, staring into the darkness under your own bed. Groaning as you pushed yourself up. You sat on the floor and looked at the clock. It was almost 7am. You brushed your hair out of your eyes and sat there with your head resting in your hands. Tears welling up in your eyes, you began to sob, "I'm going crazy."

___________

 

"A woman?" Sam asked. He was seated across from Dean in the bunker's library, his elbows resting on the table.

"Yes." Dean said, rubbing his face.

"In your room?"

"Yes, Sam! That's what I said. There was a woman in my room when I woke up."

"And you don't remember how she got there?" Sam sounded dubious.

"Stop making it sound like I blacked out or something! I didn't forget how she got there, I don't know how she got there, there's a difference, a very important difference."

Sam put his hands up. "Okay, okay. So, you woke up with a woman in your room. Where did she go?"

"She fainted and just, vanished." Dean threw up his hands in frustration.

"Well, who was she? Did you recognize her?" Dean didn't answer right away and Sam narrowed his eyes at him. "You did, didn't you?"

"Yeah...no. It's weird. I don't know."

"And the award for least helpful answer goes to..."

"Shut up, Sam. She recognized me, okay? I bumped into her a few weeks back, but I didn't remember her right away. But," Dean sighed and looked down at his hands. "I've also been having these dreams and I'm pretty sure they've been about her."

"What kind of dreams?"

_____________

 

An hour later you clicked send on an email to your boss explaining that you were feeling ill enough to make a doctor's appointment and that you would be out for the rest of the week. At least that should buy you a little time before you lost your job for having gone completely mental.

_____________

 

"Succubus? How, uh, physical have the dreams gotten?"

"They're almost completely physical, but they haven't been about sex." Dean looked at Sam who was looking puzzled at him. "Yeah, shocking, I know." He flipped a few more pages in the book he was searching through before continuing. "I told you, it's like she is sleeping right next to me. I can feel her, smell her, but she's always gone when I wake up, because they're just dreams."

"Until this morning?"

Dean nodded.

"And how long have you been having them?"

"About a year, I guess." Dean sighed, shut the book and grabbed another from the pile in the middle of the table.

"And you never thought to mention them?"

"No, because they were just dreams, Sam. You really want me telling you about all my dreams on the off chance they might someday end up meaning something? Really?"

Sam made a face that was half bitchy and half frustrated. "No. Alright, so if they aren't sex dreams then we can probably rule out her being a succubus. You said you could feel and smell her, right? Was she warm or cold? What did she smell like?"

Dean thought for a second, "She's warm and she smells...good." He glanced at his brother and shrugged a little. "Like soap and shampoo. The flowery stuff that chicks like."

______________

 

You spent the day going back and forth between convincing yourself that it was just a dream and trying to figure out how it could possibly be real. You took a shower but put the same pajamas back on. You made yourself a sandwich but felt full after just a couple bites. You almost took a nap, but thought about the shiny muzzle of a gun pointed at your chest and decided against it. In between it all you kept looking up whatever seemed relevant on the Internet. You looked up dreams and psychosis related to sleeping, psychotic breaks, hell, you even looked up astral projection. Nothing seemed to quite fit though.

_______________

 

Sam pushed back from the computer screen. "Okay, so, we need to figure out who she is, right?" Dean nodded in agreement. "But the only thing we know for sure is that you'll dream about her when you go to sleep."

"Yeah."

"So, go to sleep." He paused for a moment, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. 

Dean felt torn. On the one hand he didn't want to just invite something potentially dangerous into the bunker. On the other, he couldn't remember the last time he had actually slept without having the dream and the comforting presence it brought. She didn't feel like a danger, hell, she had seemed pretty honestly scared and freaked out, but he knew better than to let his guard down around the supernatural. A lifetime of experience had taught him that that was the kind of dumb move that got people killed, or worse.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where sleep is concerned, resistance is futile.

You started yawning around 1am. By 2am your eyes were burning and you were feeling shaky and kinda nauseous from all of the caffeine in your system. Pacing around, you were afraid to even sit down but you knew you couldn't stay awake forever. 

Even though your dreams of him had never been anything but comforting, Hot Dog Guy scared you. The fact that he had pulled a gun out of seemingly nowhere while he'd still been in bed was not a good sign as far as you were concerned. Seriously, who does that? Bad guys and dangerous people, that's who. Mobsters, hit men, CIA and secret agents, people who killed people and who expected to be killed themselves at any moment. He'd walked and talked like a man who was used to taking action and getting results.

And what was all that talk about witches and demons? You'd seen a tattoo on his chest that looked like a star in a sun, it could have been an occult thing. None of this made any sense at all. You were stalling, and you knew it, but you couldn't think of anything else to do.

___________

 

"Still awake?" Sam asked as Dean shuffled into the library and poured himself a drink. Sam didn't miss the glare his brother shot him before taking a gulp of scotch. Dean poured a little more of the dark amber liquid into his glass before stoppering the bottle and flopping down in a chair at the table.

"I've been laying awake in there for hours, Sammy. I can't take it anymore." He rubbed his eyes and blinked slowly, staring blankly across the room.

"You aren't tired? 'Cause you look beat."

"I'm exhausted, I can barely keep my eyes open. I just can't fall asleep."

"Okay. You said that when all this started you would wake up to the dream but over time you started falling asleep to it too." Dean nodded. "And lately you've had the dream every night?"

"Every time I go to sleep." Dean took a sip and watched the scotch as he swished it around the glass.

"Every time?"

"Yeah, Sam." He knew he shouldn't be annoyed, Sam was just working the case, but in his current mood he was having a really hard time not snapping. "Shit! I hate being the case."

Sam barked out a little laugh and shook his head. "Yeah."

They sat in silence for several long moments. Finally Dean said, "She seemed really freaked before she vanished."

"You pulled a gun on her." It was a statement, not a question but Dean nodded in confirmation. "What if you scared her enough that she is staying awake, afraid to fall back to sleep? Maybe you both need to be sleeping at the same time?"

"What time is it?"

Sam looked at the time display on his laptop screen, "2:47."

Dean downed the last bit of his drink and set the glass down on the table as he stood up. "Well, she can't stay awake forever. I guess I'll go lay back down and wait."

___________

 

You finally had to sit down when your knees started to buckle. It felt like your joints had been replaced with Jello. As soon as you sat back on the sofa though you could feel sleep pulling at you. Your eyes wouldn't stay open and your brain felt like it was suspended above a bottomless pit. You tried turning up the volume on the stupid action movie you had put on, but you couldn't concentrate on the dialog. Your eyes crossed as they closed and although you managed to jerk yourself awake a couple of times, your resistance finally broke and you fell into the warm, waiting arms of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

You could hear the soothing sound of a heart beat in your ear as your head slowly moved with the rise and fall of the chest you were using as a pillow. A warm arm curled around your waist and fingers lightly stroked back and forth across your forearm. Taking in a deep breath to sigh with contentment, you breathed in the now familiar scent of your dream, the smell of...Hot Dog Guy!

Feeling you go from utterly relaxed to ridged and heart racing, his hand settled gently, but firmly on your arm, just above your elbow. His other arm hugged your waist just a little more firmly.

"Shh, shh, shh. Hey. It's okay. Try and stay calm. Don't go disappearing on me again." His deep voice rumbled up through his chest straight into your ear, you felt it as much as you heard it.

"Who are you? Where am I? How did I get here?" You felt the panic rising up in you and it must have been apparent in your voice. Either that or the fact that you were starting to hyperventilate clued him in. You lifted your head and tried to push yourself up but he didn't loosen his hold on you.

"Whoa, whoa! Keeping it calm, remember?" You turned your head and looked at him. More than a day's worth of stubble covered his jaw, which was actually quite square, and his widened eyes, green with accents of brown surrounded by thick eyelashes, were puffy with sleep. "Let's deal with one question at a time. I'm Dean. What's your name?"

"Y/N. Where are we?"

"In my bed." Even freaked out you knew that he knew that wasn't the answer you wanted, confirmed by the little smirk he flashed you.

You let out an irritated sigh. "Could you be a little less specific?"

"Kansas."

"Really?"

"Yep. Where were you?"

You resisted the urge to just tell him you had been in your living room and instead told him your hometown. "How did I get here?"

"Now THAT is the million dollar question, isn't it?"

"You don’t know either?"

He shook his head. "Other than what you just told me and the fact that you like hot dogs, you smell nice and like to cuddle when you sleep, I don't know anything about you." You blushed and laughed a little. "I say something funny?"

You shook your head and rested your chin on your hand, which was resting on his chest. You were suddenly very aware of his body against yours, which was only mildly less distracting because he was wearing a tee shirt this time. You swallowed and managed to say, "It's just, that's all I know about you too."

He smiled at you, searching your eyes and you could see him thinking.

"As nice as this is, I'm starting to get a crick in my neck. If I let you up, are you gonna pass out? Disappear?"

"I don't know. Are you going to pull a gun on me?"

“Touché. I tell you what, as long as you stay calm, the gun will stay right where it is.” He slowly let go of your arm and relaxed his hold on your waist. You both sat up, you leaning on one hand with your legs curled to the side while he scooted back so that he was leaning against the headboard.

You stared at each other for a few seconds before you felt your cheeks turning red and you looked around the room, breaking eye contact. You'd thought he was attractive with a mouthful of food, but that was nothing to how he looked all sleepy and rumpled. Suddenly desperate for something to say, to break the silence you asked about the first thing you noticed.

“No window?”

“Wouldn’t have much of a view, we're underground.”

“Like in a basement?”

“Something like that. You mind telling me your last name, Y/N?”

“Sure, I mean no, I don’t mind, it’s…” You didn’t even get the first syllable of your name out before the room spun into blackness.

________________

 

You woke up slumped over on your own bed. “Shit.” You muttered into your blanket.

 

________________

 

Hours later...

“Dean?” 

“Hmm. That sounds so much better than ‘Hot Dog Guy.’” His voice, low and right in your ear sent a little shiver through you and you couldn’t help but smile. 

This whole situation was weird beyond belief and you would be lying if you claimed to be okay with what was happening, but, you’d also be lying if you said that you didn’t like waking up with this man beside you. You knew you should be scared of him. You knew, knew, without a doubt, that he was dangerous. You told yourself that you should be wary of him and this whole situation. But you were having a hard time maintaining that feeling of caution when surrounded by his familiar presence.

“I didn’t panic, so why’d I blackout again?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. Both times you’ve been here you disappeared about 30 seconds after we broke contact.”

You thought about it for a second while trying not to think about him, curled up behind you, his face in your hair, his chest against your back, arm draped over yours, fingers intertwined with your own.

“So, whatever has been causing the dreams and pulling me here, pulling me to you, if I let go…”

“You get snapped back home. That’s the theory anyway.” You felt him take a deep, slow breath. “I gotta say, Y/N, of all the weird shit that’s happened to me you smell the nicest.”

You blushed, it seemed like you were always blushing around him, and said, “Does a lot of weird stuff happen to you?”

“You have no idea. Come on, I want to test that theory and there is someone I want you to meet.” He sat up but kept a hold of your hand.

A moment later you were walking hand in hand with him down a tiled hallway.

“Your home is very…institutional.”

“Yeah, well, what it lacks in hominess it more than makes up for with other amenities.” Just then he led you into a large two story room with metal stairs leading up to a balcony, an incredibly old fashioned looking computer station along one wall and a big table with a built-in map on it in the center of the space. Your mouth dropped open as you took it all in.

“So, you are a spy?!”

Dean just laughed, “No.” He kept walking through the room to a wide archway and climbed a couple of stone steps into a library, complete with a row of long tables and chairs down the center and a huge telescope at the far end of the room. "Y/N, this is my brother, Sam." Dean stopped walking and as you stopped beside him you saw a man seated at one of the tables. 

Sam looked up and simply said, “Huh.”

You smiled awkwardly at him, “Hi.”

He blinked and shook his head a little. “I’m sorry. Hi, Y/N.” He stood up and moved to shake your hand, saw that Dean was holding it and stopped. He was several inches taller than Dean, and had longish brown hair that fell down either side of his face. His voice was deep but softer sounding than Dean’s and he had kind eyes.

"Told you she wasn't a hallucination." 

"Yes, you did." Sam made a face at Dean that was part bemusement and part embarrassment as the three of you sat down around the end of the table. Resting your still clasped hands on the smooth wood surface you felt a little self conscious as both men studied you.

"You've been having dreams about Dean?"

"So it would seem."

"For how long?"

You shrugged as you thought about it. "Um, I'm not really sure. They started so subtly. Maybe a year or so? Since just after my birthday last year."

Dean and Sam looked at each other for a moment before Dean turned to ask you, "Did you make any wishes on your birthday?"

You shook your head, about to say no when you remembered something. "There might have been a wish thing." They both looked at you, waiting for you to say more. "Maybe? There was a lot of drinking that night, I don't really remember that part very clearly."

"Well, if you do, anything about it could be important."

You nodded.

"We'll work on that. For now, I have a couple of quick tests for you, if your game?"

"I keep translocating when I fall asleep. At the moment I think I'm ready for just about anything."

Sam unscrewed the lid from a silver flask and handed it to you. You took it and looked at them both. "You want me to drink?"

Dean nodded, "It's just water."

You narrowed your eyes at him, the back of your brain screaming that it could be poisoned or drugged. As you raised the flask to your lips you silently reminded yourself that they already had you here and could have easily done something to you already. You drank and grimaced. "Uhh!"

"What?" They both seemed way too alarmed.

"How long has that water been in there? It tastes really stale."

The brothers exhaled audibly and passed a look between them.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Okay, let's test that theory, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I guess." He let go of your hand. 

"Here's hoping I land on something soft." They both stared at you, expectantly, as you sat there. You started to feel a little uncomfortable. "Ever notice how long thirty seconds seems when you're waiting for something?" 

"Think about your birthday." Sam said.

"Try to remember what you wished." Dean added.

"Specific wording would be helpful. And if there was anything physical involved, like a coin or a symbol used."

"I'll do my best." This was all too weird to be true and you were still about half convinced that this was all just a dream.

"Hey, you never told me your last name."

"Y/L/N. See you later?"

"Counting on it."

The last thing you saw, before the fade to black, was Dean's smile.

 

________________

 

"Huh!" Sam said.

"I know, right? I mean, we've seen ghosts, demons and angels all disappear more times than I could count. But THAT is just weird." Dean said, pointing at the empty chair where you had been sitting just seconds before.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cas makes an appearance.

Bright blue eyes squinted intensely into yours. You had pulled your head back as far as you could without stepping backwards and the man was still incredibly, uncomfortably, close to you.

"What are you doing?" You asked. Without looking away from your eyes, hell, without even blinking, the man slowly reached towards your forehead with two fingers. You glanced to your right briefly and the blue eyes narrowed even more. "Dean, what is he doing?"

"It's like an angelic MRI. Just hold still, it won't hurt." He paused and then said, "It isn't going to hurt, right, Cas?" You unconsciously squeezed Dean's hand.

But then the man's fingers made contact with the center of your brow, and your mind was filled with a flash of bright light. It didn't hurt. It actually felt kind of cool, coldish more than awesome although it was sort of, refreshing. And then it was gone and the man withdrew his hand. 

You released the breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Wait, angelic? Are you telling me that he's a..."

"An angel, yeah. Don't let his Columbo-esque appearance fool you, Castiel is the real deal. So, Cas, what did you get?"

“She is human.” Your eyebrows shot up and you glanced between the two men. The trench-coated man’s gaze traveled down your arm to where you were holding Dean’s hand and then up to Dean’s face. He cocked his head to the side, squinted again in concentration and stepped over in front of Dean. “Her energy is entwined with yours, which is…highly unusual. How did this happen?”

Dean reached out with his free hand and casually pushed the angel back a step. Cas didn’t seemed fazed by this and continued to study Dean from his new, slightly further away vantage.

“We think it might have been the result of a wish gone awry, but beyond that we’re still trying to figure it out.”

“Hmm.” Was all Cas said.

“Does it seem dangerous?”

“Not at the moment, although translocation like you have described requires a tremendous amount of energy to maintain and I can already see evidence of the strain it is causing Y/N’s body. Until you can figure out how to stop it from occurring, I would recommend reducing the distance between her starting point and yourself. If there is nothing else urgent, I was in the middle of something that I really need to get back to.”

“Yeah, no. Thanks for popping by.”

Cas left without another word. When he was gone you turned to Dean. 

“An actual angel?”

“Yep. Wings, heaven, smiting, the whole nine yards. You get used to him after a while.” Dean shrugged and added, “Sort of.” But you could tell that he trusted Cas and, for now at least, that was good enough for you. 

You had learned so much in the past few days that you still couldn’t quite wrap your brain around. Rather than fight it all, you had decided to just take everything in stride and see where you ended up. Case in point, your nocturnal visits to what Dean and Sam referred to as “The Bunker” and what you still thought of it as a secret spy headquarters. But you kept that to yourself. 

In the wee hours of the night, every night, you would wake up in Dean’s room, sleeping comfortably against him. Sometimes he would be awake before you, sometimes you woke up first. Neither of you had spoken about it but you suspected that you had similar motives for letting the other sleep. It just felt too nice to have someone to hold or be held by, that sense of connection with another person, of just not being alone.

Although, walking around holding hands all the time was less comfortable. You felt slightly handicapped, only being able to do things with one hand. Dean, who was also struggling with having one hand occupied the entire time you were there, had tested the contact thing and found that clothing didn’t seem to impede the connection; one of you simply had to have a hand on the other. However, you had both forgotten on separate occasions and accidentally turned away, breaking contact. Which lead you to another discovery about your current condition, once contact was broken it seemed that it could only be reestablished while you both were unconscious. So, most of the time, you held hands and felt a bit like a teenager.

You would only stick around for an hour or two, long enough for the brothers to ask you questions, trying to determine the nature of the connection. But you were also learning things about them, about Dean, and as the days went by you stopped wondering why you were being drawn to this particular man. Quite simply, he was everything you were looking for. You kept this realization to yourself too.

“Hey.” Dean said, gently tugging on your hand and pulling you out of your thoughts and back into the moment. He backed up against a nearby table and rested against its edge while grabbing a hold of your free hand so he could release your other, allowing you both to stretch and relax your fingers. “Have you heard back from your friend?”

You had reached the limits of your memory regarding the night of your birthday and had started asking some of your friends for the details that were lost to you. You hopped up so that you were sitting on the table next to him and filled him in.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of plans.

“Okay. Based on what Y/N remembered about the candle and incantation,” Sam paused to glare at you before continuing. “And factoring in what Cas said, it sounds like what we’re dealing with is a soul bond. Minor bonds happen fairly often as a result of a deep emotional attachment. However, bonds strong enough to cause translocation are extremely rare. There have only been a few recorded cases, ever, and they are exclusively caused by some sort of magical interference.” Again, he shot you a look.

You frowned and slumped your shoulders. “I said I had been drinking…and didn’t think that magic was real.” You had already gotten a lecture from Dean about messing with magical forces so you had a good idea what was going through Sam’s head and you got it, in hindsight it was clearly a dumb thing to have done.

“She gets it, Sam. I don’t think she is going to make that same mistake again. How do we break the bond?”

“Well, for a minor bond, getting your heart broken will usually do the trick, although that can still cause a backfire kind of effect. Think spurned lover seeking revenge, that sort of thing. But, major bonds? Well, those require something a little more drastic.”

You felt yourself go pale.

“How much more drastic?” Dean asked.

Sam shrugged. “All but one of the known cases seem to have ended with the deaths of both individuals."

You gulped and asked, “How’d the other one end?”

“Well, there isn’t much, just that, ‘The sharp blade of fate sundered the bond.’” Sam looked at Dean.

“You think that’s the same blade…”

“That Balthazar had?” Sam nodded. “That’s what I was thinking.”

“Great! We’ll just ask him for it. Oh wait, that’s right, he’s dead.” Dean muttered sarcastically.

“Hopefully Cas knows where it ended up.” Sam tried to sound hopeful.

“Fuck, I hope it’s not in Heaven.”

“Yeah.”

You watched Dean as they talked. His thumb was rubbing little circles on your palm. He didn’t seem to be aware that he was doing it but you weren’t complaining. It was reassuring and somehow rather mesmerizing. It took you a second to refocus when he turned to talk to you.

“While we’re trying to find the blade, Y/N, I’m going to come pick you up. Cas said that the strain on you was going to cause problems and I think it would be better if you were here.”

“Oh, okay.” Your heart gave a little flip.

“Yeah?”

Play it cool, you thought and said, “Sure, I can’t concentrate on work, or really anything with all this going on anyway.”

“Alright, I’ll get some breakfast and hit the road. Pack enough for a few days, at least.” He gave your hand a squeeze and let go, leaving it cold and a little empty feeling. Your cheeks flushed as you realized exactly how much you hated the seconds before you were pulled away from him and what that implied. You glanced up at him just as your vision started to fade and were startled to find his expression mirroring your own.

__________

 

“Dean!” Sam shouted as he ran into the garage just as Dean was pulling the Impala out to leave. “Dean!”

The car stopped and Dean watched his brother jog around the car and get in on the passenger side.

“Change of plans. Cas knows where the blade is, but it is going to take both of us to retrieve it and we need to go get it now.” Sam tossed a duffle bag over into the back seat.

“Alright. Where to?”

__________

 

You woke with your head resting on your arms at your dining room table to the sound of your phone ringing. Lifting your head you scanned around trying to locate the source of the sound. Spotting the phone over on the coffee table you got up to go answer it. You were stiff and felt kind of wobbly on your feet but you managed to maneuver your way to the sofa and flopped down.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Y/N. Sorry if I woke you. There’s been a slight change of plans.” Dean’s voice was a low rumble over the line as he relayed the updated game plan to you. He promised to call you in the evening. 

“I’ll try to stay out of trouble, you do the same. Talk to you later.” Setting down the phone, you sank back into the cushions and closed your eyes. You knew you wouldn’t fall asleep, but you needed a moment to deal with the disappointment that you were feeling. Just another day or two, he’d said. You could wait. Besides, it wasn’t like you weren’t going to see him that night anyway, unless he didn’t go to sleep. With what you had learned about Dean Winchester, you knew that was a very real possibility.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taking a leap.

The hours stretched on and you did your best to lose track of the time. You turned on the TV, found a marathon of a show you really liked and tried to not think. You failed. You couldn't stop your mind from playing those last couple of seconds over and over, picking them apart desperately searching for hope that, well, that there was hope. You were sure you had seen a shadow of sadness in his eyes, his jaw clenched, as if he were biting back words or steeling himself against something he didn’t want to happen.

You made yourself some coffee and picked up the book you were in the middle of reading; trying to recapture the feeling of its imaginary world that had previously wrapped you up so thoroughly. No good. All you could think about was the feel of him pressed against you at night, hot and unyielding, yet molding easily to fit so perfectly around you.

You got up to make a sandwich and ate it without noticing. You even tried to get caught up on your work emails. Nothing held your attention. You took a shower, a very long, very hot shower. Staring at your reflection in the patch you had cleared on the foggy mirror you had to admit that you were in trouble. Dean Winchester had you well and thoroughly hooked.

It was possibly the longest day you had ever experienced and it stretched mercilessly on into the night.

Dean finally called just before 10pm. He and Sam had made it to the town where the blade was being kept. They had gotten rooms at a motel for the night and were working on planning and prepping to get the blade the next day. Before saying goodbye he warned you that it would probably be a late night. 

Although he wasn’t forthcoming with the details, you got the strong impression that getting the thing was going to be dangerous. But this is what he and Sam did, right? They dealt with this sort of stuff on a regular basis and knew what they were doing. At least that is what Dean assured you. It was what you knew about them, so you trusted that they would do it and tried not to think about what might go wrong. 

It was sometime after 3am when you felt him next to you as you drifted off to sleep.

__________

 

The first thing you felt as you woke up was the back of Dean’s hand laying against your own under the covers. Then he let out a deep breath and the air in front of your face warmed. Opening your eyes you found yourself nose to nose with him, foreheads resting together and so close you couldn’t quite bring him into focus. But you lay there, motionless, and watched him anyway as his breathing slowly changed and his eyelids fluttered open.

You smiled. “Hi.”

“Hey.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled back at you. 

Even too close and fuzzy out of focus, you drank in the sight of him. From the green sparkling in his eyes in the early morning sun that was streaming around the curtains to his thick eyelashes and freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks, he was so beautiful that your heart swelled and you knew you would never get tired of looking at him. 

While you were studying him you failed to notice that he was doing the same to you and a long moment passed where neither of you moved more than your eyes. Just as you sensed it was bound to get awkward, right before you were sure he was going to move or say something, you decided to just leap and see where you landed.

"Dean, when you have gotten the blade and fix this whole mess that I've made, I'm going to miss this, falling asleep and waking up with you." And then you did the bravest, most reckless thing in your life. You tilted your head and kissed him. 

It was a quick kiss, chaste, simple and much too brief. At first you were afraid that he wasn't responding, he had just frozen in place. But as you pulled away to gauge his reaction, his hand left yours beneath the covers. His fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you forward, his lips crashing back into yours.

You tried to lose yourself in the passion of the moment, but a nagging thought wouldn't quite let you. For the smallest, briefest, split second you and Dean had let each other go. You wrapped your arm around his back and pulled yourself as close to him as you could get. Your bodies pressed together as you opened your mouth to his kiss, hoping against hope that with enough contact you could manage to stay here in this shabby motel bed with him.

Too soon, that couldn't have been thirty seconds you thought desperately, you felt the now familiar sensation start to tug at your consciousness. "No, no, no!" You cried into his kiss as you furiously fought to hold on to him before everything went dark.

__________

 

As the sheet slowly settled into the emptiness you left behind, Dean's head dropped back onto the pillows with a growl. "Son of a bitch!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate is a bitch.

You buried your head into your pillow and groaned out a long string of profanities. Just as you ran out of curses, a happy little ding sounded next to you. Brushing the hair out of your eyes, you picked up your phone and squinted at the new message.

 

Dean: well I'm not sleeping again anytime soon

You: me neither :(

Dean: shit I'm sorry

You: not your fault

Dean: yeah well next time I'm gonna make damn sure I don't let go

You: next time?

Dean: as soon as I get back here later don't care if I have to get Sam to knock me out I'm taking a nap

You: think you'll want company?

Dean: yes

Dean: definitely yes

You: be careful, but don’t take forever

Dean: call you later

 

Yesterday had managed to hold the title of The Longest Day Ever for a whopping 4 1/2 hours. It couldn't even begin to compete with today. But slowly, oh so painfully slowly, the day passed. Morning crept into afternoon. You made yourself eat something. And afternoon dragged into evening.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when your phone suddenly rang.

"Dean! Are you okay? Did you get it? How's Sam?" 

"Whoa, whoa. Slow down. Yes. We got it and Sam's fine." He chuckled at you. "It was actually easier than we were thinking. Took a while, but we retrieved it without any problems. Now, we just need to figure out what to do with it. How are you doing?"

You two talked for a bit before Dean oh so subtly mentioned that he was exhausted. You grinned but faked a yawn, which turned into a real yawn about halfway through, and agreed that calling it an early night sounded like a great idea.

__________

 

Fingers brushed the hair off of your neck as warm lips pressed into the hollow just below your ear. Your pulse quickened as you began to rise up out of sleep. A wide, strong hand spread across your lower ribs and stomach, pulling you back against a broad wall of muscle. Fingers lazily stroked your hair as tongue and teeth licked and nibbled along your ear and steamy breath sent a shiver of want through you.

"Mmmm." You hummed happily.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty." Dean said as he continued to nuzzle at your neck.

Tracing your fingertips across the back of his hand as it continued to hold you close against his chest, you worked your fingers in between his and squeezed. "No letting go this time."

He shook his head as he started kissing his way back up your neck to your jaw. "I'm not going to let you go."

You turned your head towards him and captured his lips with your own. He curled his fingers in, trapping yours in his grip. Despite the slightly awkward angle, having your head twisted around as far as it would go, the kiss was perfect. It was passionate, but not rushed, a year's worth of desire for each other spurring you on but you felt like you had time to take your time and enjoy each other. Your mouths fit together and moved together like dancers who knew all the steps but were studying a new partner's rhythm, learning their unique moves.

Dean smelled of soap and clean clothes. He tasted like toothpaste. You smiled a little to yourself as you pictured him showering just before getting ready for bed, exactly like you had done.

Shifting your shoulders and rotating your hips, you turned onto your back and brought your free hand up to cup the side of his face. You traced your fingertips lightly along one of his eyebrows, taking in the color of his eyes and thickness of his lashes. Tracing over his cheekbone and across the hollow of his cheek, you gazed at constellations of freckles. Your finger skated down to the hard line of his jaw, until your thumb caressed his bottom lip. He parted his lips and closed his eyes, breathing in to steady himself. He breathed out. You both lay there like that for a moment, he leaned into your hand as it pressed gently along his jaw and your thumb rubbed across his lip. He breathed in again and opened his eyes.

Studying your face, he unwound his fingers from yours and placed your hand so your palm was flat against his chest. He pressed it to him, as if telling you to stay there, and then he reached out, eyes searching yours, and his hand slid into your hair and lifted you into another kiss.

Maybe it was the fact that you had been sleeping with this man for the past year (although you had only been aware of the reality of the situation for a week or two) that made the whole experience feel like it was all still just a dream. The surreal sequence of events, the slow buildup of dreams and the realization that he was real, it felt like everything was happening in the wrong order. But here you were and here you wanted to stay, for as long as you could manage.

Dean rolled towards you, so that he was leaning over you and momentarily trapped your hand between you. He lifted up slightly and you slid your hand up across his chest and around behind his neck, carding your fingers in his short hair as he settled back against you. You lifted one of your knees and angled your hips towards his as his nestled one of his knees between yours. 

Taking your hand and interlocking your fingers with his, he held your hand against the pillow above your head. He ran his other hand from your hip up along your side, thumb just brushing the swell of your breast. Your free hand worked on memorizing the muscles of his back. Your inner thigh pressed against his. All the while kissing each other like your lives depended on it.

You arched up as Dean started to trail kisses down your throat. CRASH! You both jumped at the explosive sound from next door.

"Dean!" Sam shouted through the wall and Dean was up off the bed in a flash. Your hand instinctively tightened around his and you were pulled up with him. He took the safety off of the pistol he suddenly had in his right hand. Where did that come from, you thought. Shit he was fast!

Covering the two steps to the connecting door, he pushed you behind him. 

"Erragh!" SMASH! And the door shook. He looked from the door to you and you saw him calculating the situation in a flash. He looked sad but resolute.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, you've got to get out of here." You just nodded and let your hand drop to your side as he released his grip on you and turned towards the door. "Stay behind me."

Gun raised, he quickly surveyed the room. You could just see one of Sam's long legs stretched out on the floor in front of the door. Dean rapidly fired two shots into Sam's room and you jumped and covered your ears, although they were already ringing. Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention as Dean stepped into the doorway. Someone had just appeared in the room with you, over by the window. 

“Sam?” Dean said glancing quickly down at his brother.

“M’okay.” Sam groaned as he started to get up.

A non-descript woman with short brown hair was picking up a shining, narrow-bladed short sword from the table, a crazed glint in her black…all black eyes…what the hell? 

“Dean!” Your voice cracked with fright as the woman looked up at you and smiled. Before you could do anything, although your brain was drawing a blank on what you could have possibly done even if you had the reflexes to act, she was suddenly right behind you and had your hair painfully twisted in her fist, the blade held pressed against your throat.

"Thank you for finding this for us, we've been looking everywhere for it." She said to Dean.

"Let her go." Dean was back in the room, gun trained on the woman behind you.

"Sure, except since I can't have you trying to track me..." 

You felt a tug on the edge of your consciousness, just another second or two and you would be safely back home. There was a shift in the way you were being held and pain exploded through you just as you sank into blackness. The last thing you saw was Dean's expression change from shocked worry into something hard and cold and deadly.

__________

 

Dean saw your eyes go wide and your mouth open soundlessly as the demon plunged the blade through your side. He watched as you went limp and started to fall towards the floor. He was squeezing off shots when you vanished. He knew the bullets wouldn't kill the demon but he didn't have time to find a more effective weapon. He also saw, with little satisfaction, that he hit the evil bitch at least twice before she escaped the room. 

He grabbed his cellphone off the nightstand and dialed quickly.

"911. Please state the nature of your emergency."

"A woman has been stabbed and needs immediate medical assistance." And then he rattled off your address, twice, and then disconnected the call. He could hear Sam packing in the next room as he started gathering up his own things. Shots had been fired, they needed to get out before the police came.

With a sinking feeling of dread in his stomach, Dean cleared the room and threw his duffle into the car, Sam sliding into the seat beside him. Less than three minutes from when you disappeared, the Impala was speeding towards the highway...towards you.


	10. Chapter 10

For the first time in a long time, you woke up alone. There was no warm body pressed against you, no strong arms holding you tight, no fingertips brushing feather-light across your skin or steamy breath warming your hair and you felt more than cold from their absence. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking several times to clear your vision as you swallowed thickly. Your mouth felt dry and tasted like it had recently been stuffed full of cardboard. You looked around and everything clicked into place.

You were in a hospital room, an I.V. hooked up to your arm. You shifted a little and pain hit your side in a sickening wave. You gingerly felt at your stomach and found thick bandages under the hospital gown you were wearing.

"Hey. Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty." A deep voice sounded from the doorway. You looked up to find Dean holding a steaming cup of coffee and smiling at you. As you smiled back you noticed the puffy dark circles under his eyes and the thick scruff covering his chin and jaw. He walked into the room and sat in a chair that was pulled right up next to your bed. Putting the coffee on the side table, he took your hand in his and you immediately felt better, warmer.

"My Prince Charming!" You croaked.

He smiled as he handed you a cup of water. "Here, try some of this." You took it and started to gulp down the room temperature water. "Whoa! Little sips." Worry weighted down the corners of his eyes and took some of the mirth off his smile. 

"Oops." You grinned as you slowed down. "Uh, my mouth is just so dry."

"That’s the pain meds." His eyebrows knit together. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been stabbed." You grinned at your own little joke. "What happened? Who, what was that?"

"A demon."

Your eyebrows shot up. "An actual demon?!"

"Yep. We're still not sure how she got into Sam's room. He says he just looked up and she was there. She tossed the big Sasquatch around the room a couple of times. He broke his arm, again." He rolled his eyes. "But, I think he did more damage to the room than the room did to him." He looked down at your side, squeezed your hand subconsciously before continuing. He didn't look back up at you as he spoke. "You, ah, you really gave me a fright there. I thought..." He cleared his throat and frowned. "I called 911 and the paramedics were able to get you to the hospital here. You were still in surgery when Sam and I arrived."

"I'm glad you're here." You suddenly felt very tired and you let your head rest back against the pillows.

"Get some rest, I'm not going anywhere."

__________

You weren't sure how long it was, as you faded in and out of consciousness, but every time you woke Dean was sitting next to you, holding your hand. He would talk with you while you were awake, keeping topics simple and light, although trying hard not to make you laugh after the first time had you clutching your side in pain. Occasionally nurses would come in and check your vitals and Dean would back off and let them work. But as soon as they were gone he would settle right back in, his hand slipping comfortably into yours.

At one point, you were watching Dean sleep, hunched forward in his chair with his head resting on the bed next to your leg, when you heard Sam clear his throat from across the room. You look over to see him sitting in another chair over by a window, afternoon sun streaming around him. He had one arm in a cast resting across his stomach and bruises coloring half his face deep purple and red. A feeling of guilt spread through you.

"I'm so sorry, Sam." You said quietly.

He looked at you in confusion, his brow wrinkling up for a moment while he thought. And then, glancing down at his arm, he asked, "For this?" He held up his arm a little. You nodded. He actually chuckled. "Don't worry about it, hazard of the job."

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for me, if you hadn't been trying to help me. So, for what it's worth, I am sorry that you got hurt because of me." He just nodded back at you. You glanced down at Dean again, checking to see if he was still asleep. "How long has he been asleep?"

"He finally passed out about an hour ago. He'd been up for nearly 48 hours. Drove the whole way here, only stopped for gas, and he's barely left your side since." Sam stopped, not needing to say any more about it. Instead he changed the subject. "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm okay. Still really tired."

"The doctor said she would come by around two o'clock. Until then why don't you try to get some more sleep?"

"Yeah." You yawned. "Sleep sounds like an excellent idea."

___________

You found out from the doctor that while the blade had caused a fair bit of damage as it pierced your abdomen, nothing had leaked anything dangerous onto anything else and the holes were at least sizable enough to be easy to find and stitch up. She expected you to make a full and quick recovery.

"Depending on how your recovery progresses, I'd like to keep you here for another day or two. When you do go home, you'll need to refrain from any strenuous activity for at least two weeks." The doctor paused, glanced out at Dean where he was talking to Sam in the hall, and then looked back at you. "That includes sexual activity."

You blushed, but you nodded. "Got it."

The doc left and Dean came back in. Your blush deepened a little but thankfully he didn't seem to notice.

"So, what's the verdict?"

"She wants me to stay for another day or two and then just be super careful with myself for at least two weeks."

He nodded, like that all sounded about right to him. "So, what we were talking about before, did you make a decision?"

"Yeah. I thought about it a lot and I'm thinking...Jaws."

He smiled at you and set up a laptop on the rolling table so it was right in front of you and bringing up the movie. "Classic. Excellent choice." And he settled in next to you, turned so he could prop his feet up on the lowered side rails of your bed and lacing his fingers with yours.

And that's how the next couple of days passed. You gradually were able to stay awake for longer and longer periods of time. You got up and walked around at the nurses' insistence. Both Dean and Sam assured you that while it was going to hurt like a son of a bitch at first, it really would help you heal faster. And it did get easier, less painful, each time you got up. By the time you were waiting for the discharge paperwork to be done you were able to take a shower and get yourself dressed without assistance.

And so you were sitting on the edge of your bed, feet dangling and waiting to be given the okay to leave along with all of your prescriptions and instructions, with Dean sitting next to you.

“Y/N, I’ve been thinking.” You turned your head towards him. “I still think you should come back to the bunker with Sam and me. We haven’t made any progress figuring out who that demon was or what she wanted the fate blade for, if she still poses a threat to you or not. The bunker is the safest place we know of though. Plus we still need to figure out how to break the bond and I don’t think we should risk you translocating, no idea what that’d do to you in your current condition.” You grinned at him. “What?”

“You had me at, ‘Come back to the bunker.’”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering at the bunker.

"I'm just saying, you know who has secret lairs? Spies, super villains and superheroes." You shrugged.

Dean grinned and opened his mouth, about to say something when Sam cut him off.

"For the millionth time, Dean, you aren't Batman."

Dean looked mock-hurt. "Oh, I am so Batman." Sam chuffed out a laugh. "Not only am I completely awesome." Sam rolled his eyes as Dean continued. "But I drive a kickass black car that I park in a secret garage built into a hillside." Dean put the car in park and cut off the engine. "Plus..." Sam got out of the car and shut the door behind him. Dean chuckled to himself and didn't continue. Instead he glanced back at you and said, "Come on, I'll give ya the nickel tour." He got out and opened your door, helping you stand. 

"I have been here before, Dean."

"That doesn't mean you've seen the whole place or know the layout. There's a lot more then you've seen and since you're free to roam around on your own now, you should know where everything is." When you started to reach for your bag he stopped you. "Nuh uh. I got it, you're not supposed to be lifting stuff, remember?"

You pressed your lips together in what you hoped looked like a smile as you conceded to his point and stepped away so he could get your things from the backseat. Sam shut the trunk with a squeaking bang and you thought how much old cars were like old people, their joints complaining loudly as they moved. You followed Sam and Dean as they crossed the space and walked down a flight of stairs into a tiled hallway

A few minutes later, after being shown the kitchen and bathroom along with several doors that led to storage rooms that you were advised to stay out of, and passed what Dean called the War Room (and you secretly thought of as Spy HQ) Dean slowed as you approached room #11, finally coming to a stop outside the open door. He looked at you and actually seemed a little embarrassed.

“Hey, isn’t this where my previous tours all started?” You joked.

“Yeah, uh, I guess we didn’t really discuss sleeping arrangements.” He hesitated and you smiled at him. Seeing Dean Winchester look unsure of himself was a new experience for you. You thought it was kinda cute. “If you want, there are other rooms, several of them actually. You could have one to yourself…”

You pretended to think it over carefully. “Hmm, are all the beds as comfortable as yours? ‘Cause I gotta say, your bed is super comfy.”

He shook his head and half smiled, “Uh no. The other beds have older mattresses. Mine is the only memory foam one.”

“Mmmhmm. Do the other rooms get cold at night? Because I get cold at night. Yours seems to come with a personal space heater.” Reaching forward you gave a little tug on the front of his shirt and managed to keep a straight face just long enough for him to be momentarily confused. As soon as he got it you broke out into a huge grin that mirrored his.

“Well, of course if you’d prefer the best room we’ve got, you’ll have to share. I’m afraid it’s already booked. But the guy is pretty accommodating, so...” As he spoke he carried your stuff into his room and sat it down at the foot of the bed. "Don’t even think of trying to take advantage of the situation though, doctor’s orders remember. No hanky panky for at least two weeks.” He pointed at you to emphasize his point and your eyes went wide as he walked back towards you. “Yeah, I know all about that. You are welcome to stay in here, but don’t go getting any ideas if you know what I mean.”

You blushed and then laughed. “Did you seriously just say no hanky panky?" He grinned. "Dean, I get that this whole situation is crazy weird, and if you’d rather I took one of the other rooms I will, but it seems kind of pointless if I'm just going to end up in here anyway.”

“Hey, crazy weird I’m used to. And I’m teasing. Honestly, I’d just assumed you be staying in here with me and didn’t think about it until just now. I’ll be a perfect gentleman, I swear.” He raised his hands, palms towards you in surrender and you raised your eyebrows at him. “Okay, maybe not perfect, but I’ll be good.” You didn’t miss the hint of double meaning he put into the last word as he winked at you and grinned. You thought you might actually combust from his smile. The way his eyes lit up and the skin crinkled around them in laugh lines. The way his full lips parted and showed off a perfect set of white teeth. 

Dean wrapped his arms around you and hugged you gently to his chest, kissing the top of your head. You breathed in, surrounded by his scent and warmth and fully relaxed for the first time in days.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Tired and sore, but, better.”

“How about hungry? Why don’t you get settled in, while I go make some dinner?”

You agreed that sounded like a good plan and he headed out towards the kitchen. You sat down on the edge of the bed. It felt so nice. You swore you were just going to stretch out for a bit and then work on putting some of your stuff away. You yawned deeply and it seemed that you were a lot more tired than you had realized.

__________

About twenty minutes later Dean let out a little, “Huh.” He was standing in the doorway but could quite clearly see that you were sound asleep. He grabbed an extra blanket and carefully covered you up before leaving the room.

__________

You woke up at some point in the night as you were shifted this way and that as Dean got you under the covers and lay down next to you. His arms wound around you as you settled in together and soon both drifted back to sleep.

__________

The first few days passed quickly. You slept a lot, explored the bunker, and discovered that Dean was an amazing cook (and kind of a mother hen, which was absolutely adorable). When Sam realized how much you loved to read, he spent hours with you in the library, showing off the collection of books and talking about various titles and topics. Both brothers were patient and thorough, answering all the questions you had about various monsters and supernatural creatures. For all of their unusual upbringing and tragic lives, you realized just how truly wonderful these two men were, and yet they both seemed really lonely and enjoying the rare opportunity of having someone else, someone new around to talk to.

All three of you noticed pretty quickly that while previously you and Dean hadn't been able to sleep when the other was awake, that seemed to have changed. You had no problem falling asleep while he was still up. In fact, you had a hard time staying awake a lot of the time. They both assured you, however, that this was completely normal during recovery from a traumatic injury. Then they regaled you with stories of their various, and horrifying, injuries over the years. You learned, much to your amazement, that they had both actually died before, several times in fact. 

"Wait, wait, how many times?"

Sam's eyebrows rose and he blew out a long breath as he thought about it. "I don't know, four or five, maybe, not nearly as many times as Dean."

Dean scoffed, "And we're gonna keep it that way." He looked at you and took in your widen eyes and smirked as he took another sip of his beer. "Told you, weird shit is kinda normal around here."

"Well, speaking of weird, any news on that fate blade?"

"No, none." Sam said, his forehead wrinkling up in concern. He looked lost in thought for a few minutes before looking back at you again like something just occurred to him. “You were stabbed by it.”

“Yeeaaahh?” You replied slowly, unsure of why he was making such an obvious statement.

“And now you’re able to sleep independent of Dean.”

Dean seemed to pick up where Sam was going. “You think that sundered the bond?”

Sam shrugged. “Either that or just being in close enough proximity with each other has changed the way the bond works.”

You glanced at Dean but looked down quickly, turning a page in the book you were holding, hoping to hide the sinking feeling that was filling your gut. And while you didn't see, Sam noticed the sideways glance that Dean gave you before he took a sip of his drink. 

__________

Later that night Dean woke you up from where you were dozing next to him on the sofa. "Hey, Sleepyhead, time for bed." 

"Mmmm. What time is it?"

"Late, come on." He stood and helped you up. Wrapping an arm around your waist he led you back to his room, his thumb rubbing little circles against your skin.

__________

Before you knew it, a week had passed and while your abdomen was still tender and you had to make sure not to twist or bend suddenly, if you were careful you almost felt normal, which was beginning to make things more difficult. 

Waking up with Dean wrapped around you on your ninth day at the bunker you felt the first real stirrings of arousal since you'd been stabbed. You were lying half on your stomach and Dean was draped over you, his face buried in your hair, effectively pinning you in place with his chest pressed to your back and his arm curled around you, his hand resting against your collarbone. This meant that his arm was pressed against your breast. You just lay there, enjoying the warmth of his breath in your hair and his weight pressing against you. Eventually though you had to admit that you needed to get up and go to the bathroom and not just to pee, you needed to either do something about the delicious ache between your legs or get some distance between you and Dean. You sighed and slowly worked yourself free, squirming out from under him. Just as you were about to sit up his arm tightened around you and pulled you back against his chest. 

"Where're you going?" He asked as he burrowed into your hair

You laughed quietly. "To the bathroom, Dean. I wouldn't squeeze me too tight if I were you."

He just made a low grunt.

"Dean?"

His arm loosened. "Mmm, okay."

You got up, glancing back as you slipped out of the door. Although you weren’t really sure how it was possible, you thought he looked even better than usual, all rumpled and groggy with sleep. He was watching you from one eye while he rubbed the sleep out of the other with the back of his hand. His gaze snapped up to meet your eyes when he realized you were looking at him. He grinned guiltily as you closed the door and you realized, as you walked to the bathroom, that you’d just caught him checking out your butt. You couldn’t get the smile off your face the whole time you were in the bathroom.

From that point on you noticed that you both took every opportunity to touch each other. Sometimes it seemed unconscious, like when his knee pressed against yours when he sat next to you at the table. But mostly it was blatantly affectionate, his arm around your waist when you walked down the hall, the little kisses he'd place on the top of your head, on your shoulder, on the side of your neck making you shudder. Meanwhile, you always seemed to have a hand on him, his shoulder, his arm, his thigh…which caused him to clear his throat a little loudly and bite his bottom lip. 

“Sorry.” You said quietly, moving your hand away.

“Oh believe me, so am I.” He chuckled at you, but it sounded a little forced.

On the twelfth day, as you were getting up from the table after lunch, you leaned over and kissed his cheek, just in front of his ear. You had meant it as a thank you for the delicious sandwich, but you lingered just a little too long for it to be a simple peck on the cheek. And then he was turning towards you and his hands were threading into your hair and he was kissing you, his lips pressed against yours and parting slightly. Your hands clutched fistfuls of his shirt, pulling yourself closer. The next thing you knew he had you sitting across his legs and you felt more than just a little lightheaded.

Turning to the side, you rested your temple against his forehead and tried to catch your breath. "How many days has it been?" You asked.

"Twelve."

You made a needy little sound in the back of your throat as your hand smoothed down the fabric of his shirt against his chest. "You know, I feel perfectly fine..."

Dean shook his head. "Yes you do. But I don't want to risk it. It's only two more days." If your ears hadn't deceived you that last bit sounded a bit strained. But you knew he was right, even though you didn't want him to be right. You nodded and let out a long sigh.

"Dean, we keep going like this though...I'm not sure I'm going to last for two days."

He shut his eyes and tilted his head slightly, groaning low and deep before drawing in a sharp breath and clearing his throat. "Yeah, me neither.” He paused before saying the rest like he’d rehearsed it. “That's why I'm going to go with Sam and take care of that haunting he found this morning. It's down near Lubbock, 8 or 9 hours away. We'll go down, take care of the ghost and spend the night. I figure it'll give us a chance to see if you're still translocating."

"So, I'm staying here?" 

He nodded and gently rubbed your upper arms. "You okay with that?"

What you wanted to say was no, you weren’t okay with being left behind, that the last thing you wanted was to be separated from him. But instead you just slumped your shoulders, nodded and made up your mind that if you did end up back in his arms that night you were going to do whatever you needed to pick things up from where they’d just left off.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last! 
> 
> (Fluffy, smutty goodness)

Your phone dinged and the screen lit up with a new message. Rubbing your eyes, you rolled over and squinted at the time as you picked up your phone. It was 4:37am.

Dean: You awake?

You: I am now

As you waited for him to respond you jumped and almost dropped the phone when it started ringing and vibrating in your hand. Fumbling to answer the call you were laughing when you said, “Hi!”

“Hey. Did I wake you up?”

“Yeah. Not the way I was hoping you would, but it’s okay.”

“Sooo, you’re still there.”

“I am still here.” You couldn’t keep the tone of disappointment out of your voice.

“Hey, it’s a good thing, it means we don’t have to worry about you popping back and forth anymore.”

“I know. I just…” You faded off, struggling to find the right words and finally just settling for, “I was looking forward to having my space heater tonight. It’s cold here without you.”

You heard him chuckle, low and quiet. “Yeah, I’m kinda missing my body pillow too.”

That thought made you smile, thinking of how he always seemed to be curled against or draped over you when you woke up.

“When will you be back?”

“Late afternoon. You doing okay there alone?”

“Yeah. Although this place is kinda creepy when it’s all quiet and deserted.”

“Well, try to go back to sleep.”

“Fat chance. Drive carefully, but don’t take forever.”

“Okay.” And he disconnected the call.

__________

You were sacked out on Dean’s bed reading when you heard them get home later that day. Resisting the urge to run to greet them, you waited for Dean to find you. 

You could hear them talking as they came in, but they were too far away to make out what they were saying. As you heard boots clunking down the hall, you sat up and swung your legs off the side of the bed.

“Seriously, Dean, don't. You'll regret it.” Sam’s voiced called after his brother.

“For the last time, mind your own business!” Dean half growled, half shouted in response as he paused in the doorway. He sighed and shook his head before looking into the room. You smiled when his eyes found yours and while he was smiling back at you, there was a weight there that hadn’t been before.

"Long drive?" You asked.

"Yeah. Boring day?" He nodded his head towards the stacks of books on the floor by the bed as he dropped his duffle bag on the floor.

You grinned, stood up and shrugged. "You caught me. I threw a wild book reading party while you were gone. There were metaphors and allegories flying everywhere. And don't even get me started on the footnotes...pfft! It was in-sane."

He shook his head and looked at you disapprovingly. "If there wasn't any booze there wasn't any party." He smiled and walked towards you. You met him in the middle of the room. "So, thanks to our pesky random demon encounter, I guess the soul bond thing is no longer an issue. You're not stuck with me anymore."

"I never felt stuck with you." You reached out and ran your hands from his collar bone up to either side of his neck where you could feel tension thrumming through him. His hands settled lightly on your waist.

"Yeah well, we'll be able to get you back to your real life now." What was that look, you thought. He was still smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes, didn't make them crinkle up on the sides, they looked guarded.

You brought one hand up to caress his face trying to puzzle out what he was thinking. He leaned into your palm and closed his eyes, swallowing as you said, "I don't want to go." It came out as a whisper. He drew in a ragged breath and licked his lips as he opened his eyes and looked at you. You traced the edge of his bottom lip. "Dean, I..." was all you got out as the movement of your thumb seemed to break whatever self restraint he'd been holding onto. His hands slid around you, up into your hair, around your back and you were suddenly pressed against him from your hips to your lips.

Your heart was pounding in your ears, your blood felt as though it was vibrating in your veins as bursts of electricity arced through you from every point of contact with him. You were enveloped in the warm, comforting smell of him and you still felt like he was too far away. When his hand brushed over your side he broke away from kissing you just long enough to ask how you were feeling. And though you knew what he was referring to, you answered, "Like I've been waiting a year for this." 

You captured his bottom lip with your mouth, tugging with your teeth before soothing over it with your tongue. His mouth opened with a low growling kind of noise, his tongue pushing back, searching out whatever hidden places you might have. You barely realized that he was walking you backwards towards the bed until the mattress stopped you. He bumped into you and you felt his arousal against your hip.

You let your hands travel his broad shoulders, feeling their way over muscles that were bunching and stretching in his arms and down his sides. Your fingers kept getting tripped up in the wrinkles of fabric covering him and you let out a sound of frustration. "Rrrhhh! What is with you and all of the shirts!?" He grinned and reached over his head, grabbing a fistful of shirt and pulled it all over and off. 

You hadn't seen him without a shirt since that first time you had translocated. And while you had later gone over the memory, at the time you'd been so freaked out that you hadn't been able to really appreciate the view. His shoulders were wide, supporting a broad chest and well-muscled arms. He wasn't big and bulky like those guys that worked out all the time in the gym near your work, rather he had the build of someone who'd spent their life working with their hands and using their body for leverage to move things much larger than themself. You marveled at the freckles that were scattered across his skin and remembered noticing them in some of the more vivid dreams you'd shared. Those nights had left you breathless and needy for more, more that had been a very long time in coming. 

As you smoothed your hands up over his chest, his hands slid back around your waist to the bottom of your shirt. Fingers traced familiar little circles on the skin of your back, making you shudder and sigh. And then he was pulling your shirt up and off, turning you both around in the process. You weren't wearing a bra, since you had been lounging around, reading in bed all day. He sat down on the side of the bed heavily as he tossed your shirt across the room, a look of wonder, like he'd just had the air knocked out of his lungs, covered his face. 

"You are so beautiful." He said in a hushed voice as he studied you with his eyes and hands, fingers skating lightly over your curves. He hooked his hands in the waistband of your pajama pants and eased them down so that they pooled around your feet, leaving you naked before him. You felt self conscious, with the full weight of his gaze on you. But just as you started to begin to feel uncomfortable and unsure of what to do, he pulled you a little closer and his mouth joined his hands in their studies.

Dean's attentions could only be described as worshipful. He seemed intent on exploring all of you. Kissing, licking, nipping, sucking, stroking, plucking you lost track of everywhere he touched. And every touch that elicited a favorable response from you was repeated, as if he was verifying what he'd done, to be able to do it again later. 

Your whole body burned with desire for him to keep going, to do more. You wanted more, needed more. You bent down and captured him in a kiss as you pushed him back further onto the bed and crawled up over him. Settling yourself over his hips you felt him straining tightly against the constraining fabric of his jeans. Wantonly, you ground against him, making yourself moan and eliciting an answering groan from him. Still you wanted more, more contact. So you kissed your way down his throat and chest as you crawled back and slipped down onto the floor between his feet. His belt opened beneath your fingers and then he was raising his hips and helping to work the denim down his legs as you pulled his boots off. Fingers splayed, you ran your hands back up his thighs as you leaned in close to him again. But before you had even reached his hips, he sat and scooped you up. The next thing you knew you were laying on your back in the middle of the bed and he was rolling a condom on.

You smiled, "You don't miss a beat, do you?"

"Not if I can help it." He said with a roguish smirk as he settled himself between your legs and smoothing your hair off of your face. He kissed you and then looked into your eyes, all serious smoulder now, and waited. You shifted your hips and rubbed against him. That was the final consent he was looking for and he positioned himself and pressed into you. You both tried to maintain eye contact, but as he filled you your head tipped back and your eyes closed. He felt so perfect inside you, stretching you. And then he began to move.

He nuzzled into your neck and placed a biting kiss on your pulse point as he slowly pulled almost out and slid back in. You moaned his name and clutched at his shoulders, raising your hips to meet each thrust. You pulled his mouth to yours. "Oh God, Dean!"

"You feel so good, Y/N! So good!" 

His rhythm sped up and you were panting, breathing in time with his movements. 

"More, Dean!" You gasped out and he reached a hand between your bodies and rubbed little circles around your clit. You could feel yourself beginning to come undone.

"That's it, Sweetheart, come for me." He said, voice low and gravelly as he lightly bit your earlobe, and the tension in you snapped, sending waves of trembling pleasure through you. Dean managed to thrust a few more times as you clenched and shook against him and then he grunted your name and came, shuddering and swearing. As you both calmed down, he pulled out of you and shifted to his back, pulling you over and against his side. You snuggled into him as he wrapped his arm around you. You couldn't seem to stop smiling as you both dosed off.

__________

"We really should get you back home soon, before you lose your job." Dean said as he kissed the top of your head. You were snuggled up in his bed, with the covers pulled over you both. You had woken after a brief nap, cleaned up and gotten back into bed. He was now trying to talk you into going back to your life. But you'd thought about this long and hard over the last two weeks and weren't giving in that easily.

You raised your head, rested your chin on the back of your hand on his chest and said, "Stop trying to chase me off, Dean. I know you don't really want me to leave."

He bristled at that, his brow was creased and stern looking. "How can you be so sure of what I want?"

You blushed. It was time to come clean. "Because I remembered the wish I made. I remember it clearly. I didn't want to tell you before because, well, I was scared by what it implied...about us." You bit your lip and looked away. 

"What did you wish?" He asked with a tone of worry.

"I wished to wake up in the arms of the love of my dreams to find that I am the love of his." You looked back up at him to find his eyes wide, staring back at you with his mouth partially open. He seemed at a loss for words, which would have been adorable if your heart wasn't trying to beat out of your throat. You swallowed and continued. "So if I seem ridiculously sure of myself here it is only because I could have ended up anywhere, but I came here, to you."

He didn't say anything, just looked at you. You knew you were right, you knew you were. Every other part of the wish had come true, the part about him had to be true to, didn't it? As doubt began to set in and you felt your face turn about three shades darker red, he pulled you towards him. His hand cupped your cheek and he kissed you, long and slow, making your heart swell and the fire in your core rekindle. And as he rolled against you, smiling, he said, "Okay, you can stay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! (I like to think that they live happily ever after. But since this is Dean Winchester, I gotta admit the odds are slim.) I hope you all liked it!


End file.
